I’ve been thinking about deserts a lot lately.
Part of this I know is because we will soon be moving to a country that looks remarkably similar to Tatooine in the Star Wars movies (though I believe those scenes were actually filmed in Tunisia). There is, however, something else here that has me thinking about deserts in a much larger, much more archetypal sense of the word.
I grew up in a desert. I have lived in Central Oregon for the overwhelming majority of my life and though this cold, rain-shadow desert that marks the lands of the Columbia Plateau looks very different from what we conventionally think of as “desert,” I know this place has significantly influenced my spiritual geography. There is a wild, desolate beauty in eastern Oregon that is difficult to describe to someone who has never seen it. (I attempted this unsuccessfully several times while living abroad in England)
Deserts are places of scarcity, of barrenness. We often use this term to describe times of difficulty in our spiritual lives. We equate growth with water and lushness – the kind of landscapes more common on Oregon’s western half than its eastern. Still, to say nothing grows in the desert or that nothing is produced in our lives when we are stranded in spiritual deserts is incorrect. It would be more accurate to state that what grows in the desert is all the more precious because of its scarcity.
To survive, desert plants need roots that drive tens (sometimes hundreds) of feet into the soil to tap difficult to reach sources of water. Fruit produced by desert plants is often guarded by spines and thorns. Similarly, our growth in these desert seasons is difficult, hard-won, but ultimately of greater value and beauty than the growth that comes during times of abundance. Only our hardiest attributes can survive these seasons and only then if we have succeeded in driving our roots deep into the ground to an eternal source of life.
I will always respect the place of deserts within my spiritual geography and will welcome the desert sun to strip away everything not of lasting value from my soul.
